Write It Down
by Enx2103
Summary: "Oh come on. Don't get all innocent on me now, Covey! Miss 'I want you.' I know those books you read. And I know, that you know, exactly what you want. So, tell me."
1. Chapter 1

**Write It Down  
****Disclaimer:** I don't own tatbilb  
**AN:** Enjoy

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**Write It Down****  
**

Peters's hands were huge. Or Lara Jean was just tiny. Or both. Regardless, he had one hand splayed out along her side, the length of it causing his pinky to tease at the waistband of her plaid skirt and his thumb to graze the bottom of her breast. The other hand was cradling her jaw, his thumb sweeping across her cheek gingerly. His thoughts were clouded with want and need and _her_. The little angel that sat on his shoulder reminded him to slow things down while he still had the chance.

He allowed himself one more slow drugging kiss before he pumped the breaks completely. He pulled away from her mouth slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. Her eyes were still closed, waiting on more from him. It cracked a hairline fracture down his heart. She was perfect. He closed his eyes, needing to give himself a break, laying completely on his back to breathe. _Lacrosse. Coach. Pushups. Drills…. Covey. CoveyCoveyCovey. Fuck._ She'd be the death of him, but what a way to go.

When he opened his eyes, she was staring right at him, her swollen lips pouting down as if he had just broken her heart. Her hooded eyes narrowed on him with intent and purpose.

"Stop looking at me like that, Covey," he groaned throwing an arm over his face to shield himself from those eyes. He wasn't sure if he could resist her if he kept looking at him in that way. All he wanted was her. He wasn't a saint but he was _trying_ to be good. He was trying to take things slow. And she was making it all _very_ difficult.

"_How_ am I looking at you?" she asked all innocent like. But the tone of her voice, she knew _exactly _what she was doing. How? He wasn't sure. But for a girl who had very little experience, Lara Jean knew how to work him. Who had given her the instruction manual? And how could he get one of those?

"You're looking at me like I just took your favorite toy away," he teased, tucking his arm under his head to get a good look at her and give her a playful grin.

"Well…" she shrugged. "If the shoe fits, Kavinsky."

He shook his head. "Unbelievable. _I'm_ your favorite toy?" he asked, teasing her.

She nodded and smiled and he swore she lit up the entire room. He didn't have much in the world, but he'd give it all up for her. And it was a terrifying feeling.

His smile faded with the seriousness of his thoughts. He licked his dry lips and caught her eyes following his tongue. "What do you want Lara jean?" he asked softly, his tone shifting from fun and light to deep and meaningful. What did she want? He knew, of course, he knew what she wanted. He wanted it too. But he also knew that he shouldn't be asking those sorts of questions. Because it could lead to too many possibilities. But she was looking at him like that, and it was making _everything_ really hard.

"You. I want you," she said with no hesitation. Sometimes she was so blunt it took the air of his lungs. In moments like that he almost felt guilty. He'd ruined innocent perfect Lara Jean Covey. He almost felt guilty, but not quiet. Not when he was on the receiving end of those eyes.

"You have me," he whispered, reaching out to trail a finger down her jaw.

"You know what I mean, Peter." She's annoyed at him for making her spell it out. But he enjoys that side of her too.

"We don't have to," he reminded her gently. He knew that she has her own thoughts about what he and Gen used to do. But Lara Jean was not Gen. And he wanted to do things right by her, _with_ her.

"I know. I _ want _to," she clarified and the confession did things to him.

"I…" he started but doesn't finish because how is he suppose to form sentences when she's staring at him with want and saying things like that? He was just a teenage boy. He did not have that much self restraint. He let out a slow measured breath as he tried to compose himself. _Lacrosse. Coach. Pushups. Drills…. Covey. Fuck!_

"Do you not _ want _ to?" He heard the panic in her voice. The nerve's building up in her mind.

"Of course I want to. You know I do! I just…" he groaned again. Why was being good so hard for him?

"You just... what?" She asked, looking at him. Her eyes were searching for an answer that she wouldn't find.

"I know how you are, Covey. I know you live in that head of yours. And I know you've got this entire fantasy mapped out already. And I have no idea what your first time even looks like. We've never even spoken about it. Are there candles and rose petals?"

She smiled but didn't answer. He knew he was right.

He smiled back softly. "Can you tell me? Use your words. Spell it out for me. I'd like to know what I'm up against." He knew the version she had of him in her head wasn't real, but sometimes he thought she compared the two of them. Peter the prince charming version that did everything right. And Peter, the real one, who really had no idea he was doing. And even the things he thought he had a good grasp on, Lara Jean had the ability to make him forget how to breathe, let alone act. He was a mess around her, and she didn't even realize it.

"You want me to _tell _you? Peter I…" she was starting to shut down and close off. She did that when things went too far. She was willing to have sex but not talk about it. And that was just not going to work for him.

"Ok fine. What if you… write it all down for me?" he offered. Because he was going to get it out of her one way or another. He had to.

"What?"

"The whole scene. Start to finish. Tell me what it's like in that head of yours," he smiled tapping on her temple. He'd pay good money to be deep in those thoughts.

"No way. I can't!" she blushed.

"Oh come on. Don't get all innocent on me now, Covey! Miss 'I want you.' I know those books you read. And I know, that you know, _exactly _what you want. So, tell me."

She was quiet for a while, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She was contemplating it; he had already won. Then her lip slipped out of her mouth. "And you'll read it?" she asked, looking up at him with worried eyes.

He noded. "Every word," he promised. Hell, he'd probably memorize it. Whatever it was, if it was possible, he'd try to follow along like instructions. Who needs nudes when your girlfriend can write out her deepest fantasy? "Can you do that for me?" he asked again, pulling her body towards his, shifting them so she sat on top of him, legs on either side of his hips. Her plaid skirt fanning out around them.

"Okay... But," she started, getting that too familiar stubborn look in her eye. She pointed a finger at him like a school teacher he was in trouble with. It was kind of hot and gave him a few more ideas.

"But?" he asked, taking that finger into his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against it and all her fingers, knowing he could easily distract her.

She grinned above him. "You have to do the same," she finally replied with a wicked smirk.

Peter pulled her hand away from his mouth. "What? No way, Covey!"

"Fair is fair," she shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest as if his view couldn't get any better.

"I can tell you what I want. But I'm not writing it. You're the wordsmith here, LJ. I'm more of a hands-on kind of guy myself," he replied, his fingertips dancing along her bare thighs, making their way under the material of her skirt, with a destination in mind. "The second time around, I promise I'll show you _exactly_ what I've been thinking about," he promised, reaching up to press his mouth against those lips again.

She squealed, her arms reaching wrapping around him. She did not a problem with his presentation skills.

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**AN: **Normally I write for a very dead fandom, where it's safe. This is the first time I write for tatbilb and I'm SCARED. Please be nice. Let me know if the ratings ok, I hear people have strong feelings about ratings!

Lara Jean and Casey McDonald (Life WIth Derek) would be best friends.


	2. Chapter 2

**Write It Down  
****Disclaimer:** I don't own tatbilb  
**AN:** Uh.. thank you for being such sweethearts and welcoming me into this fandom with open arms? I love you? Thank's!  
Bumped up the rating, cause of **reasons**.

Enjoy a little more PK + LJ loving.

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**Write It Down****  
**

"Come over after practice?" Lara Jean asked Peter with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.

He was walking her to her last class of the day, his arm slung around her shoulder, her fingers entwined with his. He tried his best to walk her to class whenever they were on the same side of the school building because he knew she liked that kind of thing... and casue he used any excuse to sneak some kisses in throughout the day. Could you blame him?

"Sure. What classic are we watching tonight? When Harry Met Sally?" They had a long running list of movies to watch, primarily at her house. They alternated between Lara Jean and Peters's picks to keep it fair, and it was LJ's turn again.

When they weren't watching movies, they were at Peter's house. His mom worked late and his little brother did not want to hang out with them. Nothing like Kitty. That's where they got in most of their _quality_ one on one time.

"No movie tonight," she smiled and he just _knew_ she was up to something. "I have a surprise," she teased.

It had been three weeks since they had spoken about Lara Jean writing it down for him. He didn't want to push, but he was high strung waiting for her to finish whatever she was writing. And although he hoped that's what the surprise was, he didn't want to get excited. "Cinnamon buns?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Her Cinnamon buns were his favorite!

Her smile fell a little. "Well, no. That wasn't it. But I can see what we have," she offered weakly with a shrug.

"Cool. I'll see you after practice." He took the opportunity to press her frame up against a nearby locker, trapping her between his arms. A smirk pulled across his lip when he saw the surprised expression on her face. She wore her entire heart on her sleeve, and he loved to watch her emotions flicker across her face. Chuckling, he pressed his body up against hers and dropped a not so sweet kiss to her lips, pulling away slowly for dramatic effect. "I'll see you tonight," he whispered, against her lips.

"A huh," she mumbled, dazed by him.

* * *

Practice went by pretty quickly. He was in the locker room drying off when the teasing from the team started.

"PK, you coming out tonight?" Trevor asked, pulling on a clean shirt.

"You know he's not," Gregg teased before Peter got a word in. "_Largie_ has Peter whipped!" he added, whipping his tshirt into the air like a cowboy.

Peter rolled his eyes. He didn't mind the teasing too much. He'd take it any day if it meant that he had Lara Jean. "I was just at Trevor's party!" he argued, hoping that was enough to shut his friends up.

"Uhhh, that was like a month ago," Trevor chimed in. "Sorry," he mumbled, realizing it didn't help his best friend's case.

"Like you don't spend all your free time with Chris,'' Peter added, pivoting the conversation away from his relationship.

"That is true," Gregg added with a pointed look.

* * *

"You made them!" Peter grinned, walking into the Covey's kitchen. It smelled like cinnamon, brown sugar, and love. Lara Jean was responsible for his weight gain ever since they started dating. He simply couldn't deny any of her treats.

"I did," she smiled, plating a cinnamon bun just for him. The icing was still warm, dripping over the sides of the roll. She even got him a glass of milk to go with it. "Now, come on," she demanded, pulling him towards the stairs.

"Uh…" Peter froze at the foot of the stairs with his cinnamon bun and glass of milk in hand. "Where are we going?" he asked confused. He wasn't normally allowed upstairs. They spent most of their time on the couch in the living room.

Lara Jean rolled her eyes at him. "Dad's at a charity event. Kitty's at a sleepover. Come on!" she explained, already halfway up the stairs. Peter was suddenly hot on her trail.

When he entered her room, he noticed that she cleaned up. Her room was normally an explosion of clothes, not that he was any better. But he was hardly ever allowed up there, so seeing it clean was odd. He placed his things on her bedside table, taking a seat on her bed with a smile.

Lara Jean disappeared into her closet, coming out with her teal hatbox.

"Uh oh," he teased, looking at the item in her hand. He knew how much that box meant to her, and the contents inside even more so.

She smiled, taking a seat next to him, placing the box delicately on her lap. She gingerly opened the top and pulled out an envelope. She held it close to her heart, looking up at Peter, chewing on her bottom lip anxiously. She had written him another love letter. A different kind this time. But one he had been waiting for.

"Is that for me?" he asked, his voice low and gruff. There were so many possibilities inside so many words that could paint a perfect picture...He couldn't wait to put his eyes on it.

"For you to _read_, yes," she confirmed, handing it over slowly, almost reluctantly. She had handwritten it and put it in an envelope because _of course_ she envelope read **PK**❤️.

"Why thank you. I can't wait to read it," he smiled back at her, placing the letter in his back pocket. He would enjoy reading every word later on. But in the meantime, he had a girlfriend to properly thank. He knew that it had been hard for her to do that for him.

Lara Jean's eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Are you not going to read it?" she asked, pointing at his pocket where the letter had disappeared into.

"Of course I am. Later. In my room..._alone,_" he teased, tempted to pull her into his lap. He had some idea that the letter, her words, could have some _effect_ on him...

"Oh no, you're not! You are not taking this with you!" Her eyes went wide in fear, and before he knew it she was lunging at him, trying to get her letter back.

It wouldn't be the first time they wrestled around a bit. Peter knew exactly how to pin her down under him, so he did just that. "Woah woah woah. What's going on, Covey?" he asked, searching her eyes to understand. He tried to keep his mind on the letter, and not on her body. But the apples of her cheeks were flushed pink and she was out of breath. He managed to hold both of her wrists down with one of his hands, the other was holding him up, making sure to keep his weight off her. But even so, she was squirming underneath him in all the worst ways. But no, he was not thinking about _any_ of those things. He was a good boy. "I thought it was _my_ letter?" he asked, gently.

LJ huffed and pouted. "Well, it is," she groaned. "But, do you remember what happened in the hot tub? I do not need this letter falling into the wrong hands," she argued, still moving under him. She even wrapped her legs up and around his hips swaying side to side, trying her best to use her body weight to knock him off balance. It just made him want to grind down into her instead. _Abort_!

"It won't," he promised, ignoring her advances.

"I'm keeping it," she replied, and he could tell by the look on her face that she was serious.

"Oh yeah, cause it's much safer here with Kitty," he argued back because he wanted to keep his letter. And it just wasn't fair.

Lara Jean froze, her legs dropped back down to the bed, her body went limp against his, no longer fighting him. Her eyes softened, looking hurt. "Low blow, Kavinsky," she replied, her voice almost a whisper.

Peter winced, knowing he went too far. He released his hold on her and dropped his body next to her on the bed. He reached into his back pocket and pulled the letter out, handing it over. "I know, I'm sorry." And he was.

She took it, clutched it to her chest, but didn't smile. "I...I wanted to burn it. After you read it," she admitted, sounding embarrassed by her confession.

"I get it. It's a lot for you. But I appreciate that you did it….I just wish I could keep it. It's kind of like the sequel to the first one, you know?" he replied, offering her a weak smile.

Lara Jean rolled onto her side to face him. "How about you read it first? Then we'll figure it out?" she replied, her lips pulling into a slow grin.

"Alright," he agreed.

Peter got comfortable in LJ's bed. It smelled like her. He imagined how much sleep he'd get if he spent the night with her... Lara Jean curled up next to him, her head on his chest, one leg hooked over him, an arm around his middle. They were intertwined together so perfectly, he didn't want to move an inch. He opened the letter slowly like it was fragile. It was multiple pages long filled with her perfect handwriting. Slowly after getting as comfortable as possible, he began to read.

When he got to the last page, Lara Jean was impatient. "Soooo?" she asked, picking her head up from his chest to stare at him.

Peter smiled at her. "Shhh, I have to read it again," he replied, going back to page one. If she was going to burn it, he was going to memorize the entire thing, word for word.

LJ groaned in response, but she put her head back down and let him reread it all over again.

When he was done with his second read, he gently tilted her chin to look at him. He looked into her eyes for a second, taking it all in. Her long dark hair up in a ponytail. Her thick dark lashes fanning against her cheeks with every blink. Her beautiful eyes that held so much of her emotions. She was something out of a fairy tale.

"I love you, Lara Jean," he murmured slowly, tilting down to press a kiss to her mouth. But not just a kiss. A slow deep kiss, his tongue licking and lapping at the traces of cinnamon he found on her tongue. His hand dropped the letter to the bed as an afterthought; his need to touch her greater than anything else in the world.

She was better than any cinnamon bun. He knew he was in too deep. No angel on his shoulder could stop him, not anymore. Not when she told him everything that he needed to know and confirmed that she was ready. He was dizzy with it. He was seconds away from pinning her down when in a strange turn of events, she pulled away from him, pressing her small hands to his chest to stop his movements.

"Peter," she groaned, her voice thick and full of emotion, but he couldn't read her. "What did you think? About the letter?" she clarified, reaching for it.

_Oh_. He chuckled, laying back down again. The letter... It was good. _Really_ good. It gave him a few more ideas. It was so perfectly Lara Jean. He was surprised but some of it. It read like a mix of a romance book and reality. Like something that could happen between them. But he did have some thoughts and concerns. "Well..." he started, taking a deep breath. "I had a few thoughts," he shrugged. It was no big deal or anything. He was pretty much on board with all of it; no red flags on his part.

"Like?" She was so impatient but he understood why. She was bearing her entire soul to him, and he hasn't said much about it.

But he didn't want to talk about it. He wanted to finally act on it. He was riled up and could barely focus on anything else but her. Somehow he composed his dirty thoughts. "Well, the way it starts…." He pointed at the top of page one.

_Lara Jean anxiously waited for Peter to arrive. The house was eerily quiet, as it was empty besides her. She couldn't wait for his arrival, so she sat on the front steps waiting to see his all too familiar jeep pull up. And when it did, she was on her feet, running to greet him._

_"Miss me?" Peter asked when LJ practically launched herself into his arms._

_She nodded and giggled, taking his hand pulling him inside the house, up the stairs and straight into her bedroom where she locked the door behind them._

_Peter arched an eyebrow at her, looking a little too smug for her liking. In response Lara Jean jumped into his arms again; this time tackling him into the bed behind him. He caught her easily, he always did. He smelled like soap and deodorant and that signature PK scent that drove her crazy. He was fresh out of the locker room after practice; his hair still wet against her fingertips. But it was his mouth that she was most interested in._

"What's wrong with it?" she asked, confused.

"Nothings _wrong_ with it. Just…it doesn't sound the most romantic evening? Just a random day after practice? Where are the candles and rose petals? Wheres the _field of desire?_" he asked, confused.

She frowned down at him. "I don't need any of that," she promised. Her hand came up to cup his cheek. Her thumb rubbing against the scar gently, like it was still a fresh wound. "When I'm 60 I'm not gonna remember the rose petals, Peter. I'm going to remember _you_." She looked like the heart eye emoji came to life.

He wanted to laugh at how ridiculous his life was, and how he somehow got so lucky. She was something else. And always the romantic, he loved that about her. He covered her hand with his own. "Yes, but is this exactly what you pictured? In your wildest fantasy?" That was what he asked of her after all.

"Yes. It's you. That's all I need."

And _fuck_, he believed her. His mouth went dry. He couldn't form any words to counter her. How could he?

"Anything else?" she asked softly, eyeing the letter in his hands again.

Peter cleared his throat and tried to remember where they had left off. "Well...this part," he pointed at the top of page 3.

_Peter looked up at her, asking for permission one last time. With a nod from LJ, he began to move. She felt the pressure of her body fighting against him; tense and wound up._

_"Breath," he reminded her._

_She tried to breathe, telling each muscle in her body to relax. She didn't realize how tense she was till her muscles finally loosened up. He started to move again, and that time she felt her body adjust around him instead. It was all very new, obviously, and uncomfortable. But it didn't hurt. Not really. After what felt like forever, Peter stopped moving and LJ realized there was nowhere left to go._

_He's looked down at her wincing. He was clearly concerned about her._

_"I'm ok," she promised. "Go slow."_

_He started to move again, being as gentle as possible. Like she was fragile and couldn't pressure soon passed and was replaced by something else entirely._

"What about it? Is it not accurate?" she blushed.

"No, most of it is. I just...I think it might hurt more than you think it will. It might not just pass in a few seconds," he winced. He was not looking forward to that part. If he could skip to the part where she started to enjoy it, he would in a heartbeat.

"Really?"

"Everybody is different but…" he trailed off, not wanting to mention his experience with Gen, but it was all he knew after all. "Obviously I'll try my best to ease into it," he cringed at his choice of words. "But yeah, it might hurt more than what you think." Based on everything he had experienced with her, and what he knew of her body… yeah, it was going to hurt a bit more than that. LJ was small and petite in all the ways Peter wasn't. It might hurt the first few times. "Or, it might not!" he quickly added, trying not to scare her.

"Ok, well, what if you touched me?" she asked softly. "That might help me cope with the pain." She looked up at him innocently, like she didn't just say that. Like she wasn't asking him to put his hands on her, to move his thumb in that oh too familiar circular pattern she liked so much.

His brain short circuited. "Right, yeah I can do that," he replied quickly, licking his lips, his mind flooding with images he couldn't blink away. He hoped he sounded confident. "I can multitask," he mumbled, mostly to himself. Could he touch her? Sure, but in the right way? It would depend on the angle… He wasn't sure how long he'd even be able to last, or if he could focus on anything else. But he'd try.

LJ beamed back at him. She looked... _excited_? "Ok, anything else?"

Peter bit his lip, eyes scanning the pages for any last lingering thoughts. "One last thing. Here," he pointed at the last page. "I…. I don't know if I can make you feel like that." He felt his face heat up in embarrassment.

_Mouthwateringly _delicious_. That's the word she'd use to describe the feeling. It felt the fire was licking its way up her body in the best way possible. She was _on_ fire, in the best way possible and she wanted nothing more than to burn. Warmth inched its way across her skin with tingles trailing closely behind. Her toes curled by their own accord, half her body arched off the bed, needing to be closer to him, like he was the only thing keeping her grounded. She wasn't aware of the noises escaping her, she wasn't in control of that either. She was chasing a high that only Peter could provide._

He watched her lips form the words as she reread the paragraph to herself. "What?" she asked confused, not understanding.

"That… that sounds amazing. But I don't think I can make you feel like Covey." Even with all the experience he had, he wasn't sure if he could make her feel all _those_ things. And although he could brush it off, he wanted to be honest with her. He wasn't that good. Her first time and any that followed wouldn't be _that_ magical.

She tilted her head, a half smile pulling across her lips. She looked amused by his confession. "What are you talking about? That's not me romanticizing what I _think_ it'll feel like Peter. That's what I _know_ it feels like," she explained.

"What?"

Lara Jean pulled his hand up to her lips, pressing tiny kisses to the tips of his fingers, looking up at him from underneath her lashes. "That's how you make me feel when you touch me," she trailed off, eyes staring at his hands again.

"Shit," he breathed out. He tried his best to keep his mouth clean around her. She hardly ever cursed. It was a different story with him. But he wanted to be good for her. He wanted to be her Prince Charming. But every once in a while he just couldn't hold it back.

"And you know, that _other_ thing you do," she added, with a sly smirk, arching an eyebrow at him.

Oh, he knew about that other thing. When she finally let him get a taste of her... it was his new favorite thing to do. They just hardly ever got enough alone time to do it. _Shit_. He was so unaware of how he made her feel. Like she was on fire? If he thought about it, when her hand and her mouth were on him… yeah, he understood the fire thing too. "Ok...so maybe it will feel something like that," he breathed out. "But you know...a little different." He wasn't sure if sex would/could feel the same as the other things they had done. But he would try his best to find whatever worked for her.

LJ nodded. "I'm sure it will be amazing," she beamed. "And we've got about an hour before anyone gets home," she arched an eyebrow his way. "How about we practice?"

* * *

**AN**: Apologies for the delay, friends! It's just that me... writing as LJ... writing a love letter to Peter, yeah - was a little too meta for my brain to handle. And then in the next (and probably final) chapter, you will see PK + LJ's first time together! I wanted to make sure it wasn't exactly what LJ described here because who needs that kind of repetition?!

If you're currently in quarantine, as I am, I hope this helped!


	3. Chapter 3

**Write It Down  
****Disclaimer:** I don't own tatbilb  
**AN:** I like to think that I writ _~artsy_ smut …? But uh, if it makes you uncomfortable, then please click off cause were going there.

PS. Read all of Peter's dialogue in Noah's **gravely/raspy** voice. It will def help put this in perspective, cause that is how I wrote it!

Now without further adieu...5k worth of fluffy smut for your eyes.

* * *

**Write It Down**

Peters's Friday afternoon practice was canceled for the coach's birthday meaning he and Lara Jean had an extra _three hours_ to themselves. She's was ready and Peter did not question it. After reading her handwritten letter he was beyond ready to get his hands on hers.

After class, LJ drove straight home. She wanted to shower and change first. Peter did the same. But he's a bit quicker opting for a cold shower to keep him on his toes. He even cleaned up his room a bit before hopping into his Jeep to pick her up.

She was waiting on her front steps when he pulled up to her house. She was adorable, skipping to the Jeep before he properly parked. Her hair in two long pigtails down the front of her shoulders swinging with every step.

"Hi!" she beamed, jumping into the passenger side seat. She reached over the center console and pressed her pink lips against his for just a second.

"Hi," he replied, a permanent grin painted across his mouth when she pulled back. His right hand automatically reached over to curl around her thigh. He always drove with one hand on the steering wheel, the other touching her in some way. It was like his body couldn't be close to her without touching. It went against his biology. Or his heart.

He hadn't noticed what she was wearing till his hand curled around the soft flesh of her bare thigh. He peeked at her in surprise and noticed that she was wearing his navy lacrosse hoodie as a dress. _Fuckkkkk_. He squeezed her thigh with his right hand. His thumb swept across her skin gently. "You know, I was looking for this hoodie."

"Were you?" she asked. Her eyes roamed over him. As if she could see much of him from inside the jeep. But still, her mouth was tipped up in mischief and promise.

He adjusted himself in his seat, his thoughts all going foggy and filthy. "Mhmm," he hummed, turning his eyes on the road.

She shrugged in response. "Well, I just thought… easy access, you know?"

_Shit_. If she kept talking like that, it would be over before it began.

* * *

No one was at Peter's when they arrived, and that was the plan. They giggled, running up the stairs like two kids keeping a secret. Once safely in his bedroom, Peter pinned her to the door, locking it behind her.

Her eyebrows knitted together. "Did you light a candle?" she asked confused, sniffing the air for an answer.

His lips pulled into a toothy grin. Of course, she'd notice right away. "I did. Just one, it's all I could find. But..." he explained. His room was still bright, the afternoon sun hadn't set yet, filling his room with entirely too much light. The candle didn't exactly _set the mood_ like in the movies. But what could he do?

She grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck delicately. Everything she did was so soft and precise and dainty. He felt like Shrek in comparison. She stood on her tippy toes to reach him, something she often had to do. The height difference was _real_. He bent down pressing a kiss to her mouth. The sound of their lips and wet tongues working together filled the air. He briefly considered putting on some music to set the mood... but when a happy little sigh slipped past her lips he thought against it. The sounds she made were the only thing he wanted to hear.

Things heated up fast and his hands got a little more possessive and needy. He gripped her hips, lifting her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist the way she liked so much, the way that normally killed him. But not this time. Once safely in his arms his hands slid from her hips and curled around her ass, keeping her pressed close to him. Her squeal turned into a giggle; music to his ears. He turned them around and made his way towards his bed where he softly deposited her. He went down with her, only allowing a bit of his weight to lay on her.

She cradled his body between her legs, not daring to unwrap herself from their embrace. She kept her arms wrapped around his neck like she couldn't dare to give him more than a few inches away from her. He felt her soft fingers dance along the base of his neck till they dipped into his hair, just like she wrote about. He made sure his hair was still damp from his earlier shower just for her. Then he felt her nails scratch his scalp as if he needed another excuse to get lost in. Her head rubs were top tier. She pulled away from his mouth just enough to grin up at him, her eyes were all bright and twinkly. Giggles bubbled up from her chest like an open champagne bottle.

"God, you're beautiful." The words slipped past his lips before he even registered them. But she really was. He really couldn't help but smile back at her. He was just as giddy. "You nervous?" he asked, pressing his body into hers just the tiniest bit.

She nodded once, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. Of course, she was nervous. He knew that. But he was going to try to ease her nerves through all of it.

He thumbed her bottom lip away from her teeth, leaving it wet, glossy and white where her teeth had dug into it. It filled out with pink in a second. Seeing her like that… jeez, he wanted to _devour_ her. And he was going to.

"You don't have to be nervous. We're gonna take this slow," he promised, his lips turning into a sly smirk as an idea formed in his mind like Tetris blocks falling into place. He leaned in, breathing against her ear for a second. He was well aware that his breath against her sensitive skin sent tingles down her body every time. "So slow in fact...you might actually have to _beg_, Covey," he whispered, his lips skimming the shell of her ear. And he wasn't really planning on going down _that_ particular route. But still, his mind raced with the thought of her begging him to touch her. Begging him not to stop... Slowly torturing her with waves of pleasure. Yeah, that was an idea to revisit in the future; an excellent way to spend an afternoon together.

He pulled back in time to see the breath leave her lungs in a huff. Her cheeks reddened, even more than before. And her lips were parted like she wanted to reply but she just couldn't find the words. Pleased with her reaction, he sat back on his knees and took a second to take in the view. His body instantly missed the warmth of her. _Beautiful Lara Jean,_ laying under him with those eyes, just waiting on him.

His fingertips ghosted up her thighs slowly till he reached the bottom hem of the hoodie. "Off," he ordered, his voice harsher than before. He didn't mean to sound so demanding, but well, he was. He needed her naked and moaning underneath him as soon as possible. His fingers pushed his hoodie all the way up and off her small frame. She grinned, liking his confidence as he stripped off her first layer. When he got it off her, he was surprised. He thought he'd find a shirt underneath the sweater but no. Just a simple black bra and a pair of tiny black shorts.

He arched an eyebrow down at her, waiting for some sort of explanation.

"It's not lingerie or anything. But…." she explained, heat radiating off her voice. He didn't take her for the kind of girl that owned anything like that. Maybe a matching set, but nothing more. Not yet anyway. (But eventually, he imagined she would be the type to own expense lingerie paired with long satin robes. She was definitely a vintage / old school kind of girl.)

The hoodie she'd been wearing provided him with easy access and he loved it. (He also loved seeing her in his clothes, but at the moment it looked better on the floor.) He laid down again, keeping most of his weight off her, he had to kiss her. Properly kiss her this time. With nothing in the world stopping them. He didn't have to be coy, her tongue was swirling around him the second their lips touched. He wasn't sure who let out the first groan, but it was hell trying to keep his hips still. LJ certainly wasn't keeping still underneath him, making it harder to focus. She was looking for friction and he was more than willing to provide it. All in due time. He had a plan to follow. So without pulling away from her mouth, his skilled fingers reached down under her, unclasping her bra with a flick of his fingers. He had done it so many times before he was an expert.

"Peter," she whined against his lips. He wasn't sure if it was considered begging yet. But he could tell she was antsy to get on with it. She wanted more and he understood.

"I'm here," he teased, with a smirk. He pulled away only to work the bra off her body and onto the floor. He felt her hand fist his hair when her naked chest pressed into him. He chuckled against her, enjoying all of her reactions. "Need something?" he asked, his mouth trailing kisses down her jaw and neck. Nipping and sucking at the skin. Not enough to leave any visible marks, she didn't like to wear makeup to cover up hickeys. But he was allowed to leave them in other places, and it was one of her rules that he took full advantage of. Especially when it came to her breast.

He swore he could taste her heartbeat on his tongue as it swirled around the valley of her breast. He could feel her pulse vibrating her entire body. She was more wound up then he had anticipated, and he hadn't even gotten to any of the good parts yet. The tip of his tongue lapped at her rosy peaks like his favorite flavor of ice cream. She squirmed under him, arching into his mouth trying to get more than the teasing he was providing, but he didn't give in to her. His hand was busy sliding up and down the sides of her body, building up the tension she was already buckling under. His tongue was busy with lazy licks across her skin; quick and slow, soft and hard. His teeth nibbling on her sensitive flesh when necessary. He couldn't help but suck a hickey onto the tender flesh underneath her breast where no one but them could see. He loved admiring his handy work after the fact.

While his mouth was busy worshiping her, his hands were busy working her shorts off. She lifted her hips off the bed allowing him to remove them. He pulled away enough to do just that when he noticed her underwear. Like the bra, it was nothing super sexy, but it was a pair of lacy black hip hugging boy shorts. He loved the way they made her ass look, and she knew it. But he wasn't going to stop to admire them this time. He shimmied down the bed on his stomach, tongue reaching out to taste her skin peeking out between the bits of lace. He heard her breathing hitch with every lick of his tongue.

"_Peter_," she said again, sounding more annoyed than pleased this time. "Take them off," she demanded, arching her hips up again.

"Patience sweetheart. I told you, _slow_," he teased, winking up at her.

They didn't use normal pet names like babe or baby. He'd use bae, when he was trying to annoy her. She'd always roll her eyes at that one. He'd call her sweet nothings when the mood called for it, but no one else called her _Covey_. It was a name just for him and the name he used the most. There were just so many ways he could say it. So many different inflections that could imply his emotions.

Slowly he dragged the flat of his tongue up her warm center while staring up at her. It wasn't direct contact but enough to make sounds erupt from her. It was also enough for him to get just the slightest hint of the taste of her. He groaned against her, she was soaked through. Suddenly he was the impatient one. Slowly he pulled the damp fabric off her body. Once off, he made a show of drinking her in; his eyes memorizing every inch and curve of her as if it was the first time. His tongue reached out to lick his lips. She was breathtaking and _his_.

"Come here," she squirmed under his stare. Her arms reached up, making grabby motions with her fingers.

He smirked, laying back down next to her. He knew the juxtaposition of them was odd. She was completely naked and he was still fully clothed. But there would be time for everything. He pulled her body towards him, his lips hungrily devouring hers as his hand trailed down her body to where she needed him most. The feel of her warmth against his fingers felt like a sin. Soft and warm and wet. But he was a tease, only letting the very tip of his middle finger touch her. That alone, the briefest of contact, made her arch into him, whimpering just a bit. Smirking against her mouth he allowed a few more fingers to caress her gently, till she was moaning, no longer in control enough to kiss him.

Eventually, sick of his own teasing he gave her what she wanted. His fingers played her like a skilled violinist, eliciting the most beautiful sounds to come out of her. He watched her breathe through waves of desire, riding his fingers to find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. He watched her heavy lidded eyes and heaving chest. When she peaked her thighs clamped down around his hand like a vice grip. He didn't dare move. He just watched her.

He was smug about how quickly he could make her fall apart. He had learned what worked for her and then mastered it. If it had been any other day he would have stung her out for an hour. But he didn't have that kind of time. Plus he had other activities in mind. "Doing all right?" he asked after a minute, teasing her.

"Fuzzy," she murmured. Rubbing her eyes breathlessly. She had described experiencing an orgasm with him as an out of body experience that often left her feeling dizzy from the sheer force of it. He took it as a compliment.

When her legs finally relaxed, he slowly pulled his hand away from her body, bringing his slick fingers up to his lips, making a show of licking each one clean. LJ just stared in bewilderment, like she simply could not believe he would do that right in front of her. When he was finally content with the state of his fingers, he spoke again. "Well, that's just the first one. So I'll give you some time to recover," he said giving her a wicked grin.

Her eyes shot open in surprise. "The first one? Out of how many?"

"Three… hopefully," he teased. He had a plan!

"Three?!" she screeched. "Peter, I don't think I can do three."

"The third one's not guaranteed. We'll see what happens."

He pulled her into his arms, letting her curl into him. She was exhausted, and hopefully, that exhaustion would numb the pain that was to come. He rubbed circles on her back, pulling the blanket over her to keep her warm and cozy. He pressed kisses into her hair and praised her for doing such a good job. Words of affirmation were her love languages after all. He knew his praising could be _filthy_ but he wasn't sure she was ready to hear all of that just yet.

Slowly, he felt her come back down to earth and to him. Her small hand snaked under his shirt and started rubbing up and down his bare started pushing the offensive material up his body. He took the hint and pulled it off in a fluid motion. She smiled, laying back down onto his bare chest. He was so close to getting a six pack for the first time in his life...but Covey and her cookies and her cupcakes and her cinnamon buns... He would have to work out every day to balance out all those carbs. But she didn't seem to care.

He felt her mouth press delicate kisses against his skin. Her tongue peeking out to lick him ever once in a while. Her fingers drifting over his happy trail. Her hands started trailing up and down again. And they kept getting lower on each round, till she was very deliberately stroking him over his jeans in a slow tedious manner. He didn't mind it, she could tease him all she wanted. He was hers to play with. But then her fingers started working to get his pants off, he had to stop her.

"Nuh-uh," he tisked, grabbing her wrist. "This is about you, Covey," he reminded her with a pointed look.

"Well, _I_ want you, so..." she countered, thinking herself so slick.

"You already have me," he reminded her. He wasn't joking when he said he wanted her to beg. "Plus, there's one more thing I have to do before you can get what you _really_ want," he explained, his voice thick with want.

"And what's that?"

"I gotta taste you first."

He heard her suck in a breath. "Peter-"

He was having any of her protests. They had time, and he had a plan. He needed to get his tongue on her. The taste from earlier was too faint to count. He needed more. "Lay down, Love," he coaxed her.

Eventually, she listened to his command and laid back slowly. He smirked, getting up from the bed to strip out of his jeans. He did it slowly, popping the button open and pulling down the fly, purposely putting on a show for her. He felt her eyes burn into him as she drank her fill. Her tongue reached out to lick her lips. It was nice to feel wanted. Once he was down to his briefs he climbed back into bed and positioned himself between her legs: the 8th wonder of the world. He licked his lips in anticipation and got straight to work.

There was just something about the weight of her legs over his shoulder that he loved. And the way her thighs felt pressed against his cheeks, almost too tight, but he wasn't complaining. He could stay there all day if she left him. His tongue drawing invisible patterns onto her heat. She was so warm and wet, his face was a mess but he didn't care. She, on the other hand, did care. She was trashing above him with every stroke of his tongue. Heavy breathing and little squeals and whimpers. A delightful melody of Lara Jean that only he had the pleasure of hearing. Even more so when his fingers found her again, curling into her in the perfect way she needed. He looked up at her, the very tip of his tongue hovering above her weak spot.

She shuddered under him when their eyes locked. "Honey, ple-"

_Please_ don't even come out of her mouth. He's pretty sure she just mouthed it, the sounds getting lost somewhere in her throat. But he felt bad because she was begging. So he ducked down and gave her what she wanted. The tip of his tongue swirled around her, this time he didn't stop when she moaned. He even moved his arm off her hips so she could arch into his mouth however she pleased.

He kept his eyes open to watch her fall apart into a million little pieces. It was glorious, even the second time around. She sounded like she was drowning, in the best way possible. Her lungs gasping for air that he stole from her. Her back bowed so incredibly high off the mattress, he wasn't aware she was that flexible. It could come in handy… a good arch was very important for some of the other things he had in mind for the future.

"And that's two," he smiled up at her, pressing one more kiss to her navel before working his way back up to her.

She couldn't see him, she had her arm thrown over her face as she tried to even her ragged breathing unsuccessfully. "I can't do three," she told him, shaking her head adamantly. "I can't," she practically pleaded with him.

"We'll see," he teased, shedding the last bit of clothing that stood between them.

* * *

"Peter…" she groaned, when he finally, finally pushed into her. It was just an inch but... "_Fuck_," was the word that escaped her mouth with a wince.

Peters's entire body froze. LJ did not curse. Like... ever. And there she was, her face scrunched up in pain, her eyes screwed tight. He knew she was in pain and there wasn't much else he could do. He felt her against him. Like a locked door, he was trying to push his way into. There wasn't a way around it.

"Ok, maybe you were right," she squealed, sounding like she was holding her breath.

"You need to breathe, Covey," he winced, reminding her. The more she held her breath, the tighter and tense her body remained.

She nodded, and he heard her slowly pull in some air. He felt the door he was pushing up against soften the smallest bit. Her thighs, which were trembling against him, relaxed a bit. "Ok. Just don't move, ok?"

"I won't," he promised. It was like he was planking at practice. Trying his best to keep his trembling body from moving. He really wanted to move. He wanted to be buried so deep inside her, but he didn't dare move a centimeter.

"Ok," she whispered. Her features softening. "Ok," she repeated, opening her eyes to look at him. Her eyes had softened. "You can try to move now."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. He started to move again, and he heard the air push out of her lungs. She was in pain again.

**Nope**. "No. I'm not doing this. I'm not hurting you," he declared. "I'm gonna-"

"Can I be on top?" she offered quickly before he could finish his sentence and call the whole thing off.

"What?" He was not prepared for her to say anything like that.

"If… if I'm on top, I can control it, right? Only take what I can handle?" she argued, licking her dry lips.

It was insane that they were having a conversation, given the position. How was he going to survive her? "I uh…" His brain was short circuiting, but she was making sense.

"And then you'll be able to touch me," she added, with a hint of a smile.

"A huh," he agreed, nodding. "Can I…" he trailed off looking down between them. He'd have to pull out first. No way he could just roll them over without hurting her.

She nodded, and slowly he pulled away from her. And even though it wasn't much, he felt the lack of tight heat around him and his body ached for her.

He shook his head again thinking clearer once they separated. "We can just try another time, Lara Jean," he promised, trying to convince her that they had accomplished enough that evening.

But she was having none of that. "Lay down, Love," she repeated his own words back to him. And somehow falling from her lips they sounded filthy.

Most of Peters's fantasy involved Lara Jean Covey naked and on top of him. Because she was small and beautiful and badass. And he wanted to see the view. And maybe he had a kink for letting her be in control. She was always so shy and reserved. But every once in a while, she got this look in her eye and it turned him into putty. He'd do whatever she wanted.

"Ready?" she asked from her position above him, her thighs spread across his hips. Her pigtails from earlier a wild mess, draped over the front of her shoulders, covering his view of her breasts, tempting his fingers. Her body was flushed pink and her lips were swollen. She looked like some kind of goddess that deserved to be worshiped. He could die with just the image alone and be happy.

He nodded, gripping her hips with his hands to help guide her along. And then she started to sink onto him. He felt her thighs tremble a tiny bit. But this time, he felt her body adjust around him instead. He didn't know where to look. Did he watch her face explode into a million different emotions? Her eyes fluttering closed, her mouth open. Or did he watch them, the part where their bodies meet for the first time?

He was on felt different than before, the angle provided more and he had to fight to keep his eyes open. He knew his breathing was heavy. But he wasn't going to blame himself for it. Having her on top like that, it was all too much. Slowly and surely, at an impossibly slow rate, she was fully seated. She grinned down at him, looking proud of herself. He was proud of her.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice cracked a tiny bit. His throat was dry.

She nodded. He felt her stretch around him. Soft, warm and velvet. A vice grip around him in the most perfect way. And then he remembered. He moved one hand from her hip to her navel, his finger trips dragging over her tummy, moving down further, testing the waters. He knew she might still be sensitive from their earlier activities. He watched her eyes flutter when his fingers touched her in the way she liked. He kept his focus on her, not thinking about the way he so blady wanted, no need, her to move her hips. But it wasn't about him, it was about her.

When his fingers touched her, when his thumb swirled around her, her walls fluttered around him like a glove. He let out a low hiss. "_Covey_," he groaned, warning her. He would not last if she kept it up. He felt every move she made.

She nodded. "I know," she mumbled, bracing herself, one hand on his hard chest to keep her leverage. And then she started to move against him. Her thrusts were a little clumsy; tiny shallow movements, not nearly enough to give them what they both wanted so badly, but enough to count- to tease. He watched her body move above him. Enjoying the view of her surrounding him entirely. His eyes flicked up to watch her face. Her features played a movie of emotions with each breath she took. She was absolutely beautiful and it fucking hurt him. Somewhere deep in his chest, he was well aware that he didn't deserve her. She was too good. Too pure...Too perfect.

"I… I didn't realize how much work it would be," she said after a few minutes, her breath laboring. Her eyebrows screwed in concentration.

Peter wanted to laugh. LJ wasn't the most physically fit person. And with the pain, he figured she was in, he couldn't imagine how hard it was to keep her body moving on top of him in any rhythm. "I can take over," he offered, patting his chest. "Come here," he promoted her to lay down.

Slowly she did. Feeling the weight of her on his chest, and the warmth on her skin all over him, it all _worked_ for him. He released a low throaty moan when she tucked her face into the nook of his neck and shoulder, her arms wrapped around his back tightly. The new position took the pressure off her hip, making her thighs spread open a bit more giving him more room to work with. When she had successfully anchored herself to him, he brought his hands to her hips and adjusted himself, the simple movement causing a gasp to escape her. He felt her body so much more relaxed in the new position.

He tested the waters but slowly rocked his hips up to meet her. Trying to keep his movements slow and gentle. But for as slow and as soft as he was being, his body was on another planet. He was no virgin, he knew how good sex could be. But this...this was different. _She_ was different. And he felt it.

He had one arm around her lower back, palm curled around her hip. The other trailed up to her hair, cupping her head, keeping her pressed impossibly close to him. As if she'd disappear in a puff of smoke if he wasn't holding her tight. "Tell me when to stop," he murmured against the skin of the hollow of her neck, placing wet kisses everywhere he could reach given the tight proximities. He didn't think they would get much further than that. He figured there was still some pain or at least uncomfortableness that wouldn't be pleasant.

"_Don't_," came her breathy reply. And then he felt her teeth sink into the skin of his shoulder and all rational thought left the building.

_Fuck_.

* * *

She did come for the third time. He was too close to the edge, but he refused to go over without her. He offered to help, but she didn't think she could do it. She was too wrecked to come a third time. Still, she sat up a bit, allowing him enough space to get his hand between them. His skilled fingers rubbed and teased her, pushing her to the brink, while he filled her with slow gentle strokes. When she peaked, it was different. This was deeper and guttural. It seemed to last longer, and she rode the waves of pleasure out herself, grinding down into him the way she needed. The combination of watching her and feeling her walls contract against him sent Peter over the edge with her shortly after.

She was absolutely shattered, her sweaty body stuck onto his. She refused to move and he didn't want her to.

"You alright?" he asked after a while when it seemed that they were both breathing properly. He wasn't sure if she had fallen asleep on him. He wasn't sure what to say. He was just as dazed as she was. Entirely blissed out and content, feeling floaty, and maybe a bit fuzzy too.

"Mmmm," she hummed, vibrating against him.

He smiled, pressing kisses to her hair. He'd let her sleep for a while. They had time.

* * *

**An: **One more chapter to go because aftercare is **important**!

Please let me know what you think! Was it hot? Could _you_ handle 3? ;)

You can find me on tumblr if you're into that kind of thing: whatafuckingbabe


	4. Chapter 4

**Write It Down  
****Disclaimer:** I don't own tatbilb  
**AN:** Uh.. thank you for being such sweethearts and welcoming me into this fandom with open arms? I love you? Thank's!  
Bumped up the rating, cause of **reasons**.

Enjoy a little more PK + LJ loving.

* * *

**Write It Down****  
**

Peter's alarm woke them about an hour later. He had set one before dozing off. He wanted to make sure they were up way before his mom would be home. He didn't need their perfect afternoon together to be ruined.

LJ stirred against his chest, whimpering at the offending noise. She buried her face deeper into his chest as if that were physically possible. It was the most endearing thing he had ever seen. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He could stay like that with her forever. He looked around his room, sleepy eyes slowly adjusting. The sun had set, blanketing them in darkness except for the lone candle he had lit earlier, glowing on his bedside table. It had been a good choice. He was comfortable and didn't want to move an inch, but he knew they had to get going.

He ran his hands down her naked shoulders and back, caressing the skin gently, coaxing her sleepy body awake. "Wake up, beautiful," he whispered into the crown of her head. LJ did not like to be woken up. He knew that. But still, he had to do it.

She replied with a string of incoherent grumpy mumbles. She readjusted herself on top of him, her hands curling even tighter around his body like she was clinging to him. Her leg hitched up higher on his hip, causing him to groan in response.

How was he supposed to get up when she was being so clingy and cute? Post sex cuddles were a different kind and he wanted to _live_ in them. He had to find the willpower to move, to get away from the spell she had cast over them. "_Covey_," he tried to reason. Like saying her name was enough of an explanation.

"Hmm?" she hummed, sending vibrations through his chest. She tilted her head up to look at him. Slowly blinking her eyes open to greet him.

"Hey sleepy," he teased, brushing her hair away from her face. Her cheeks were all pink from where she had her face pressed against him. Her lips were still full and swollen. She was breathtaking. He had half a mind to roll over and devour her all over again.

"Hi," she whispered. And the smile she gave him could heal every broken part of him. (And there were a lot of broken pieces.) He wished he could just bottle up the feeling of being there with her. It felt pure, almost too perfect. And not nearly long enough.

"I know you're tired. But we need to get dressed," he explained, his finger grazing over her cheeks.

"I know," she yawned, rolling half off of him to stretch. The blanket curled around her perfectly, making her look like a model for some high end boudoir photo shot. As if he needed more reasons to stay in bed with her.

He looked away from her trying to focus on the task at hand. "Do you want a quick shower?" he offered. "I definitely need one," he mumbled. No way was he going to make it out of the house without one. He was sure they both smelled like sex.

She looked up at him with a knowing smirk. "A _shower_?" she asked like she was calling his bluff on a bet in Vegas.

He groaned. Was that how it was going to be now? Had he unleashed a vixen she had locked away deep within her? "Not like that. I won't try anything," he promised. He just wanted to clean her to up. They had gotten messy that afternoon. Sticky and sweaty.

"Okay," she replied. Her voice was small and delicate.

Eventually, they managed to untangle their limbs. Peter got out of bed first, stretching. He felt LJ's eyes burn against his body, and he liked it. But he couldn't think about it _too_ much. He slipped on a pair of boxers and went to double check that they were still home alone.

When he came back into his bedroom LJ was sitting on his bed wearing one of his tshirts and _wow_, yeah he definitely had a thing for seeing her in his clothes. Her wild and crazy post sex hair looked tamer, wrapped in a bun on top of her head. He smirked at her, lifting her off the bed and her into his arms bridal style.

"Peter!" she squealed, trying to keep her voice down. But she wrapped her arms around his neck anyway as he carried her to the bathroom. He really didn't mind carrying her around. He liked feeling the weight of her in his arms. It was comforting.

Once safely inside the locked bathroom, LJ stripped and slipped into the steaming shower that Peter had started. "Aren't you coming in?" she asked confused when he didn't join her.

He shook his head but smiled at her through the glass shower door. He watching the warm water flow down her body in streams. He paid attention to the places where the water droplets clung to her skin... it was intimate. "It would probably be better, _faster_ I mean, if I don't," he explained. He leaned against the bathroom sink, his arms crossed against his chest, eyes glued to her body.

"Oh. So you just want to watch?" she teased, catching his eye.

He said nothing but smiled.

He'd watch her do _anything_ and find it fascinating. He felt like a hunter carefully watching his prey. He wanted nothing more than to join her in that shower. To gently wash away all they had done... to glide his fingers along her soft wet skin. To kiss her under the showerhead, her warm body pressed against his in all the right ways. He imagined what it would be like to watch her eyes flutter closed and jaw drop when his fingers unraveled her. Would she be able to stand? Would he have to hold her up as her legs trembled? Would the steam mingles with her moans, echoing against the tile walls? He had so many questions, but he knew they didn't have the time to find any of the answers. He didn't want to step inside the shower with her and be tempted. Maybe next time...

She lathered her body up in his body wash, coating her skin in another one of his scents. He watched carefully as the soapy suds slid down her body and wished his tongue could follow the same path. He tried to memorize every detail about it. Like the way, her hands moved over her wet soapy skin effortlessly. The visual was sexier than anything he had ever seen. But then he watched her cringe when her hands slid between her thighs. He knew she was hurting and he was to blame.

But just as quickly as it began, it ended. She was all clean and rinsed off. He met her at the edge of the shower with a warm towel and cocooned her in it. She smiled up at him to rewarded him by getting on her tippy toes and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

He smiled, pulling away from her. "You should get dressed," he suggested, stripping down again. He turned the water from warm to its coldest setting.

"What, and miss watching you?" she countered, arching an eyebrow. She looked adorable wrapped up in that fluffy towel.

Her words didn't help calm him. He felt her eyes on him while he moved. He was no stranger to cold showers, but it never got easier. He took a deep breath before stepping into the water, it felt like jumping into a pool. His hands were quick, working expertly to cover his body in a soapy lather. And as soon as he did, he started rinsing off. He didn't have enough time to adjust to the temperature. The water was so cold against his warm skin felt like tiny knives cutting into him. Once sufficiently clean, he turned the water off, running a hand through his hair to squeeze out the excess.

When he looked up, LJ was standing in front of him holding out a towel. He gladly accepted it, wrapping himself in the warmth, clinging to it like a lifeline.

They tiptoed back into Peter's room, still in the clear. Quickly they dried and dressed themselves not allowing for a moment of distraction as the clock was ticking in the background. But there was a layer of sadness that lingered in the air... The memory of their first time was coming to a close, and neither was ready to get back to the real world just yet.

Carefully they made it out of Peter's room and into the kitchen, where if his mom would arrive, they would be in the clear. She never said no girls allowed in his room, but he was pretty sure she wouldn't approve. But the house remained quiet. Peter let out a sigh of relief as he slipped his hand into LJ's and they made their way out into the Jeep.

"Hungry?" he asked, turning the Jeep on.

"Starving," she groaned.

* * *

They hit up a drive through. They had worked up quite the appetite and weren't quite ready to burst their love bubble and be around other people. Once the delicious food was acquired, Peter drove to LJ's neighborhood. He parked the Jeep a block away from her house, not ready to go inside and be harassed by Kitty just yet.

"So, how did I do?" she asked, popping a fry into her mouth.

"You were amazing," he replied, smiling at her. And he meant it. "I really thought you would tap out,'' he added, taking a sip of his chocolate milkshake. Images of her face screwed tight in pain came back to the surface... He couldn't imagine what it felt like for her. But she worked through it.

"I am resilient Peter Kavinsky!" she cheered, with her burger in hand like a trophy.

"I know."

Her smile faded, replaced by something else. "So, _wanna do that again_?" she asked, his voice low and sultry. Like he needed a reminder of how sexy she was.

He stared at her for a second, calling her bluff. But when she stared back at him with those eyes, he turned to look at his back seat of the Jeep and then back at her. "I mean, there's not much space back there, but we can work something out," he teased right back with a smirk

She rolled her eyes. "You remember your promise?" she asked with a pointed look, reaching over to steal a sip of his milkshake.

He chuckled softly. "I remember. But-"

She cut him off, the straw halfway to her lips. "No buts! You promised that if I wrote that letter we'd reenact _your_ deepest darkest fantasy," she reminded him.

"I know, Covey!" he chuckled. "But you kind of did it already," he shrugged. She really had no idea, did she?

She looked up at him confused. She placed an elbow on the center console, her chin resting on her open palm. She stared at him looking for the answer. "And what exactly did I do?"

Oh, she wanted details. "Well, the one thing that I fantasize about the most..." He teased letting the question linger in the car between them. He leaned over the center console getting close to her face. He stared at her lips before dragging his eyes up to meet hers. "The one image I couldn't get out of my head during all those lonely nights…" he trailed off licking his lips. His raspy voice sounding like gravel, like he was back in his room alone at night, images of her filling his mind, his hand gripping his—

"_Peter_," she whined, hanging on to his every word.

"It's just you ...on top," he finally finished his sentence, smirking at her. "That's it. Just the image of your insanely _beautiful_ naked body sitting on top of me. Thighs spread open, head thrown back, hair a mess. Just you… in control. Making every move. And just me _obeying_." He shrugged, calling back those images from earlier.

The smile that pulled across her lips was a death sentence. "Really?" she asked, nearly purring in response.

"Mhmm," he replied, tilting his head to get into the perfect angle to kiss her.

She reached out a clean hand and dipped it into his hair, leaning into him till they were less than an inch apart. Her breath tickling his lips. "Well…" she started, licking her lips. "I can do some research and we can come back to that one. I'm sure I could do better," she whispered against his mouth before kissing him. He tasted the saltiness of the fries and the sweetness from his milkshake on her tongue and suddenly he was ready to go again.

He knew exactly what kind of books she'd be reading that week for research purposes. He loved watching her flush when she read steamy sex scenes in those romance books of her. She'd always fidget around, not being able to sit still, squeezing her thighs shut and feeling Peter's knowing eyes on her. She'd angle the book away so he couldn't read over her shoulder like she was embarrassed, but the idea of him catching her thrilled her. Maybe he could make her read a scene out loud to him while he followed the instructions...

Slowly pulling away from the kiss, he smiled. "I'm just saying, Mistress Covey, it's gotta be a nice ring to it," he teased, reaching out to lick the corner of her lip where a single speck of salt still sat from her fries.

"I agree," she smiled back, the hand in his hair fisting, pulling him away an inch, already asserting her dominance. "And maybe you can, oh I don't know, blindfold me next time?" she offered, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

The groan that he let out was guttural. Images of her blindfolded in his bed, completely at his mercy, his to touch and tease however he wanted? Sensory play? Sure they could definitely do that. He tightened his grip on her body, pulling her impossibly close to him, nearly over the center console.

"You're gonna be the death of me, Covey," he breathed out, shutting his eyes.

She giggled against his kiss.

* * *

An: You can't tell me that LJ + PK ain't a little kinky! You just can't- I don't believe it! I mean, with all the books she reads... and PK being who he is? They explore every kink at least once!

Want to play a game? Count how many easter egg kinks I mentioned 😋

You can find me on Tumblr if you're into that kind of thing! Username: Wroteathingtoday


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